She Done Him Wrong
by Oxymoronic Alliteration
Summary: Tim is smitten with a beautiful woman, but Ziva and Abby suspect that his new girl is up to something. McGee/OC.
1. Prologue

His body was aching all over. He hadn't eaten anything or had any sleep in almost twenty hours (unless you could call a state of unconsciousness "sleep") and his muscles were heavy and sore. His fingers were numb and he was certain that at least one of his ribs was broken, so if he moved or even breathed his body would protest in pain.

This was not good.

He groaned in pain as he tilted his head back. The blue silk tie he had chosen that morning – or, rather, _yesterday_ morning – bound his wrists together above his head and kept them tied to the hook protruding from the wall. The dark blue fabric was now stained with red blotches where he had rubbed his wrists raw trying to free them from the binding. Still, he kept yanking, ignoring the pain, in hopes that with one final tug he would be free.

His face was bruised, he knew. He could feel his left eye swelling from the blows he had received and he could feel a trickle of blood running down his chin from his nose, staining his white shirt. In fact, the blood had begun to dry, clogging his left nostril. That, along with the duct tape that had been placed over his mouth, was making it difficult to breath. He took deep, carefully calculated breaths, telling himself to remain calm before he suffocated himself.

_You will be okay_, he assured himself in the most confident tone he could manage. It was the tone he saved for others when they were frightened and he wanted to comfort them, even if their situation looked completely hopeless. Now that he was on the receiving end of the supposed comforting, he found that it really wasn't very helpful. In fact, it made him feel more hopeless than ever.

He could hear them in the other area, though he couldn't make out exactly what they were saying. He knew whatever they were discussing involved him. He strained to hear, hoping for some hint of what was to come, but it was all garbled and hushed.

He looked back up at his hands bound above him. He yanked frantically, each yank accompanied by a frustrated grunt. After one particularly harsh yank he fell back against the back of his chair, breathing heavily. The movements had been strenuous on his already weakening body and he needed to rest. He needed to rethink the situation.

It was cold. Freezing. His shirt was light and gave very little warmth. There were a couple of windows, but they were covered with dirt and grim so he couldn't be sure what time it was, though he figured it was getting late. Did anyone know yet that he was gone? Were they looking for him? Or were they simply going about their business, unaware that their friend and colleague was bound and hurt?

He heard footsteps from the other area and his movements froze as they grew closer to him. He didn't even glance over as another person appeared beside him. He kept his eyes looking straight ahead, not wanting the person to see the pain and fear in his eyes. The cool blade of a knife was harshly pressed against his cheek. To his credit, though, he didn't flinch. Instead, he scornfully looked up at his captor, wishing that looks could actually kill.

His captor just grinned. "Now then, Agent McGee, are you ready to try this again?"

* * *

**AN:** This is already finished. I'll be posting a chapter per day.


	2. Chapter 1

_One Week Earlier_

Tim sighed, rubbing his temples as though it would get the creative juices flowing in his mind. The notepad in front of him contained nothing that he could possibly send into his publisher, unless she thought random doodles and the word "Think!" written over and over would be a nice addition to his next book.

A coffee cup was placed down beside him. "Thank you," he muttered to the barista without even looking up. He placed his pen down beside the notepad and leaned back. He glanced out of the window hoping for inspiration. There were throngs of people out Christmas shopping. There were children running around in awe of the small snow flurries that had begun to fall. There were men hard at work decorating the local businesses with Christmas accoutrements. There were couples snuggling on benches as they shared cups of hot chocolate.

There was absolutely nothing that he could put in a murder mystery novel.

_Crawshaw will kill me_, he thought as he reached for the cup that had been placed on the table. Just as he took a sip he felt something hit the back of his chair. His body was pushed forward, causing him to drop the cup. The lid popped off and the latte spilled out onto the notepad and table. He jumped up as the liquid oozed toward where he was sitting and bumped into the person responsible for the accident.

"I am _so_ sorry!" The woman stood wide-eyed in her spot, her cheeks pink in embarrassment. Tim's initial feelings of anger dissipated at the sight of her. "Here," she offered as she grabbed a handful of napkins from off the table, "let me help you." She sopped up the liquid from the table and carefully stopped anymore from spilling on to the floor. "I can't believe I did that!" she muttered.

Tim grabbed more napkins and began wiping off the seat. "It's alright," he assured the young woman. "I've done worse, trust me."

She looked up at him with a shy smile. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"No, it's true. I'm a bit clumsy. I can ace a video game and work my way around any computer, but my coordination stops right about there." He stopped, suddenly hoping that he wasn't coming across as a complete geek.

To his surprise, the woman laughed. "That's better than I can do." She stood and caught sight of the notepad. "I'm afraid whatever you were writing was ruined."

Tim looked down and saw the white paper was now filled with nothing more than black ink smudges. He shrugged. "It wasn't important. It wasn't even _good_."

"Well, I insist on buying you another coffee."

"Oh, that's really not necessary!"

"I _insist_," the woman repeated.

"Fine," Tim conceded, "but only if you'll join me for a cup."

The woman blushed. Tim smiled.

* * *

Kimberly turned out to be much different than Tim had thought. She had chocolate brown hair that fell softly around her face, accentuating her deep brown eyes. Her body was very slim, her skin very tan. She looked like she could have just come from a photo shoot or runway show. Tim's immediate assumption was that she was a model or wannabe actress. She looked like the kind of woman who thought the most important things in a man were his looks, his car, and his bank account, the kind who would be bored to tears by a computer geek such as himself.

As it turned out, she was as shy as Tim was and just as prone to blushing. She liked books, though found she had little time to read. She preferred quiet nights spent at home as opposed to raucous parties. She had a glass of wine with dinner, but never drank hard liquor. She went to church and did volunteer work during the holidays. To anyone else she may have seemed sickeningly sweet, but Tim found her to be wonderful.

"I joined the Peace Corps right out of high school and stayed with them for a while," she explained over her coffee. "Now, though, I'm studying childhood education. I would love to be a kindergarten teacher."

Tim smiled, noting that she obviously loved children (always an important trait). "I think that's a great career."

She ducked her head shyly. "I'm sure it's not nearly as exciting as being a writer and a federal agent."

"I don't think the worth of a job should be measured in how exciting it is. You'll be doing great work and you'll be helping people, though in a different way." Tim sipped at his latte. "What do your parents think?"

Kimberly's smile dissolved and she was quiet for a moment, her eyes downward. "My…uh…my parents died about two years ago," she said softly. "It was a car crash."

Tim groaned inwardly, kicking himself for brining up a subject that was obviously painful. He gently placed his hand over hers. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay, Tim. You didn't know." She wiped at the tears that had begun to slip down her cheek. "I do think I need to go now, though."

"Yeah, that's fine," Tim sighed dejectedly. Finally, a beautiful, intelligent, and kind woman shows up and he blows it in only half an hour.

Kimberly paused. "Tim…I don't do this very often…but…I mean…would you like to have my phone number?" Tim looked at her in surprise. "Or maybe I could have your number?"

"Yes! Of course!" Tim said jubilantly once his brain started functioning again. "I would love to see you again," he confessed as he stored her number in his cell phone.

Kimberly smiled as though relieved. "I'm glad to hear you say that. I was afraid you would think of me as a bore or something. I'm sure my life isn't nearly as thrilling as yours and I'm certainly not nearly as intelligent as you are."

"I think you're very intelligent," he assured her, earning a smile in return. "Maybe we could have dinner tomorrow?" he suggested.

Kimberly leaned in and tenderly kissed his cheek. "It's a date," she whispered to him, grinning in delight as his cheeks grew red. "Call me tonight."

* * *

Kimberly slid into the front seat of her car, pulled out her cell phone, and dialed the number. "It's done," she said to the person on the other end. "We have a date tomorrow night." She looked out of the window and saw him still sitting at the table. Even from that distance she could see the smile on his face. She smiled in return, but it was a much colder smile than his.

"How long will it take?"

"Hard to tell. It shouldn't take _too_ long." She paused. "We don't know that we'll find it there," she reminded the other person.

"If we don't we have back-up plans. There are other ways of getting to it."

"Do you think we'd be able to break him?"

"You're the one who has talked with him. What do you think?"

She glanced back at the young agent. "Eventually."


	3. Chapter 2

Their first date had to be postponed. A Marine's wife went missing on Monday and Gibbs ordered them to cancel all evening plans. Tim had called Kimberly apologetically. "We're likely to be here late."

"That's alright, Tim," Kimberly said, though Tim could hear the disappointment in her voice. "Should we reschedule for tomorrow?"

"Uh…I think it would be better to shoot for Wednesday. If by some chance we've wrapped up the case by tomorrow I'll give you a call, but don't avoid other plans on my account."

She laughed. "I don't really have many other plans. Most of my nights are spent at home with a glass of wine and the same book I've been trying to finish for the past three months. I usually fall asleep after one chapter."

Tim grinned, imagining the young woman clad in a nightgown, sitting on a couch with wine and a book. He could see her pulling a warm blanket around her body, her toes peeking out from under, and her head gently resting in her hand. It was a lovely image. "Still, if some handsome man asks you out tomorrow, please go. Just keep Wednesday open for me."

He closed his cell phone and caught Tony giving him a strange look. "Can I help you with something, DiNozzo?"

"Who were you just talking to?"

"A woman."

Tony's eyes alit with interest. "_Really_?" He asked in his "I'm-curious-to-know-more-and-will-pester-you-until-you-give-in" tone. "So tell me about her."

"She's really none of your business," Tim said. He was used to Tony's prying in his personal life and had learned to give vague descriptions and tune out any lewd comments the older agent may make.

Tony was unfazed by Tim's not-so-subtle hint to drop it. He leaned over Tim's desk. "Is she pretty?"

"Yes, Tony, she is pretty."

"Pretty in what way?"

Tim looked up. "Pretty in…a pretty way."

Tony rolled his eyes. "That's a great description, Probie. I thought you writers were supposed to give detailed descriptions of everything. I mean, Hawthorne went on for like ten pages about a rose bush."

"This isn't a book, Tony, it's my personal business. I told you she was pretty. What more do you need?"

"There are different kinds of pretty. There is glamorously pretty, like Charlize Theron. There is uniquely pretty, like Angelina Jolie. There is simple pretty, like Ingrid Bergman. There–"

"She is _very_ pretty," Tim interrupted. "Now I think we need to get back to work."

Tony paused, his head tilted to the side. After a moment, his face lit up with a bemused grin. "Oh, I get it McGee!" He laughed as Tim looked on in confusion. "She's ugly, isn't she? She oogly!"

Tim's face reddened. "She is _not_ ugly, Tony. She's _very_ pretty," he iterated.

"Uh, yeah, McGee. Maybe her _personality_ is pretty."

"And what's wrong with that?"

Tony shook his head as though the answer to the question were completely obvious. "Oh, my poor Probie. Saying that a girl has a 'pretty personality' is the same as saying she's ugly."

Tim was ready to shoot down Tony's theory, ready to debate him on the subject until they were both red in the face. But then he realized how little Tony's opinion of Kimberly actually mattered. Tim knew she was beautiful, so why care if Tony didn't? Besides, if he wanted to be able to take Kimberly out on Wednesday he would have to work hard to get this case finished. He didn't have time to argue with a grown man who still rated women on a "Hottie Scale." "You know what? You're right, Tony. She's a total dog," he said monotonously. "Now why don't you get back to earning your paycheck?"

"Ha! I knew it," Tony said triumphantly. "What kind of ugly is she? Like is she Plain Jane ugly or Elephant Man ugly? Or is she–" Tony's thought was cut off by a smack to the head.

"DiNozzo, I don't remember telling you to pester McGee. In fact, I specifically remember telling you to watch the security video footage. Do I need to tie you down to your chair?"

Tim watched in satisfaction as Tony retreated back to his desk like a dog with his tail between his legs. "No, boss, I'll be fine." He shot Tim a sour look before returning to the video footage.

Gibbs glanced between the two agents, a small smile on his face. "She must be very pretty for Tony to be getting so jealous, McGee," he commented before walking out of the bullpen, leaving behind a beaming agent and a glowering agent.

* * *

Tim pulled the chair out for Kimberly. "Thank you," she said softly. She glanced around the restaurant. It was small, but nice place with a quiet ambience. It wasn't the kind of place where a person had to dress to the nines to get through the front door – she wore a white blouse, red knee-length skirt, and some simple flats – but ratty jeans and plain white T-shirts would have been considered taboo. "This isn't too expensive, is it?"

"It's fine," Tim assured her. "I've taken many women here."

Kimberly tiled her head to the side, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "I didn't take you as being that kind of man, Tim."

He blushed, realizing how it had sounded. "I didn't mean for it to sound like that, Kimberly. I just meant that I happen to know from experience that this is well within my price range."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me, Tim," a bemused Kimberly said. "I don't get the 'player' vibe from you." She sipped the glass of water that the waiter had placed down. "Seeing as it's Tuesday and you haven't postponed our date, I'm guessing the case has been finished?"

"Yes, it was last night."

"No deaths I hope."

"One of the culprits was fatally shot, but everyone else came out of it more or less okay." Tim didn't mention the fact that he had suffered a kick to the stomach which had momentarily knocked the wind out of him.

Tim ordered them a bottle of the house Chardonnay. "I feel as though I'm monopolizing the conversation," he told her. "How have you been?"

Kimberly smiled. "It's only been a few days since we last spoke. Things are pretty much the same with me." Tim opened his mouth to probe further, but she cut him off. "So you know how to shoot a gun? That's fascinating!"

"I don't know that I've ever heard someone refer to it as 'fascinating,' but yes, we have to be able to handle a gun."

"I don't know that I've ever even _held_ a gun, let alone shot one."

"Well, I'd be happy to take you down to a shooting range one day. I'm not an expert shooter, but I could show you the basics. You never know when an ability to shoot a gun may come in handy."

"Yes, I'm sure I'll need protection against 5-year-olds," she joked.

He laughed. "You never know. I mean, kids these days…"

Kimberly giggled as she leaned in, resting her chin atop her hand. The small candle in the center of the table shone beneath her face, giving her an angelic glow as she smiled. "You're funny, Tim."

He shrugged modestly. "I do what I can." There a small pause as they looked at each other, both smiling warmly, unsure of what came next.

"As corny as this is going to sound…I'm glad I bumped into you on Sunday." Her hand fell upon his, her fingers gently running over his skin. "I hope you don't think I'm easy or anything…but what do you say we skip dessert tonight and head to your place?" Tim felt his pulse begin to race and he tried to keep his breathing steady. He was almost relieved that the waiter returned with the wine and to take their orders, as it kept him from acting while thinking with his _other_ brain - the one located between his legs.

"My apartment isn't really ready for company," he told her when they were once again alone.

"I don't mind," she insisted. "I would suggest my place, but the heater broke, so my current bed is a pull-out sofa at my friend's apartment." She looked pleadingly into his eyes and Tim nearly suggested they skip dinner all together, but he managed to keep that suggestion to himself.

"I do like you, Kimberly, so I hope you won't be insulted if I…ask to hold off." Her hand slid away from his, a look of hurt visible in her eyes. "It's not that I don't want to," Tim explained emphatically, grabbing her hand gently, "I just don't want to go too fast."

She looked at him quizzically. "Are you a virgin?"

"No!" he said adamantly, his face ablaze. "I'd just like to get to know you a bit better before we jump straight into it. You understand?"

Kimberly sighed, but nodded. "I do…I guess I'm just finding it hard to keep my hands off of you." She turned her hand over, catching his palm in hers. Her fingers closed around his hand and returned to softly stroking his skin. "Just say when, though, and I'll be ready."

Tim was almost regretting his decision to end the date with dinner, but in his heart he knew he didn't want to immediately go into sex and he suspected she really didn't either, even if she claimed otherwise. "Don't worry…I'll say when…"

* * *

"I couldn't get in tonight. I'm not sure how long it will take."

"We don't have time to wait around."

"I tried my best."

"You have until Friday."

* * *

**AN:** Wow, thanks for the reviews! I am glad to see that this has been so well received!


	4. Chapter 3

Kimberly looked at the man sleeping beside her. He was snoring softly, already in a deep, serene sleep. His left arm was around her, cradling her body in toward his. She watched him for a few minutes, making sure he wasn't even slightly awake before gently removing his arm from around her waist and creeping out into the living area of his apartment. She had to snort at the sight. A bookcase filled to the brim with sci-fi and mystery novels and computer and science text books. A desk with a typewriter (and a pipe?). A work bench. A computer desk. No wonder he had been so easy to get to.

It had been a shock when he didn't immediately take her home for the night. She had figured he'd jump at the chance to have her in his bed. Now that she thought about it, though, she should have known that he would turn out to be one of those sentimental, noble guys. She had been frustrated at first, thinking it could take her a week or possibly a month to get here (and that was time she didn't have). But with a little prodding and sweet talking she had made it in by Thursday.

She pulled the gloves from her purse – she had to be careful not to leave behind any fingerprints - and slid into the chair in front of his computer and went to work. She was careful to pull up her e-mail account so that, if he did happen upon her she could simply say she had to check on something important. She even had a decoy "Emergency E-mail" in her inbox in case he was suspicious. He should be out, she thought, remembering the half of a sleeping pill she had dropped in his drink after their tryst, but I can't be too careful.

She had memorized the instructions on where to do, what passwords to use, and how to cover her tracks. She knew Agent McGee's background in computers and he would notice if his computer had been tampered with and would waste no time in finding out what had been done. The last thing she needed was for Tim to be suspicious and start snooping around.

_Dammit!_ she thought to herself. It wasn't there. She groaned inwardly. Of course, she had warned him that this could possibly be the case, but he hadn't listened. Kimberly grabbed her cell phone and typed in a text message: **Not here. What now?** She sent it and waited until the screen blinked, indicating that she had a response: **Plan B**.

Fantastic. She returned the phone to her purse and crept back into the bedroom. Tim didn't budge from his spot. She slipped in beside him and sighed in frustration. She had hoped this would be much easier. _I just hope we don't have to go on to Plan C_, she wished as she watched the unsuspecting agent sleep_. That's too much of a mess to clean up after_.

* * *

"Get lucky last night, McHorny?"

Even Tony's ribbing couldn't ruin Tim's morning. He shot the older agent a smug grin. "Wouldn't you like to know, DiNozzo?"

"As a matter of fact I would like to know." Tony stood, blocking Tim's path to his desk. "Spill."

"Are you having so little bed action that you must live viciously through McGee?" Ziva was watching the scene with amusement and curiosity. Though she'd never admit it, she too was interested in knowing just how the junior agent had spent his night, and with whom.

"I think the word you're looking for is 'vicariously,' Ziva," Tim corrected as he stared down Tony. "And yes, I think that must be why Tony is so interested in my sex life." He pushed past the senior agent without another glance. "Don't worry, Tony, I'm sure you'll be able to dirty your sheets again soon enough." He paused, throwing the man a smile. "Of course, by then you may be a bit out of practice."

Tony was beginning to seethe. "I'll have you know that–"

Ziva held up a hand to stop him. "Tony, please do not divulge the details of your last sexual…experience," she ordered. "We were just johning you."

"Joshing, Ziva," Tim said. He glanced at Tony who looked downright livid. "She's right, DiNozzo, it was just a harmless joke. Truce?" he asked holding out a hand.

"Truce," Tony agreed as he took Tim's hand. "But tell me, Probie, who is she?"

"She's just someone I met."

Ziva perched herself on the edge of Tim's desk with a glint of intrigue in her eyes. "Why so secretive, McGee? Can we not at least know her name?"

"It's Kimberly," he said, shrugging, "and I'm not being secretive, I just don't think my personal life needs to be on display."

Ziva brow furrowed, her mouth twisting into a frown as she looked back and forth between Tony and Tim. She leaned in. "This is not another undercover assignment, is it?"

"No!" Tim sat back, frustrated. "Why can't I have privacy about who I slee–" He cut his thought short, realizing what he was about to say.

Tony grinned. "Who you…sleep with? Is that what you were about to say?"

Tim glowered. "Yes, I slept with her. I don't think you need to know anything more than that."

"I'm sorry, did I miss the memo about a scheduled gossip hour?" Gibbs walked in, coffee in hand, glaring at the group.

Tony and Ziva jumped up and sheepishly returned to their own desks. "Well, in all fairness boss, it's not as though we've got a case on our hands right now, so what's the harm in talking with our fellow teammates? You know…sort of a 'get to know you' deal." Tony caught Gibbs' expression. "Shutting up boss."

"You do that, DiNozzo." And with that the discussion of Tim's new girl was over…for the time being.

* * *

The day had been slow, leaving many of the agents to stick to the paper work that had accumulated on their respective desks. Tim kept busy, his thoughts often wandering to Kimberly and the way she had looked so angelic that morning when he had woken up. He'd never admit it to Tony, but his mornings waking up beside women, beautiful or otherwise, were often few and far between. He had almost felt sorry that he had to wake her, but he knew he couldn't be late for work and he didn't want to leave her stranded at his apartment (though he had to admit the thought of returning home to her still lying asleep nude – or better yet, wearing one of his T-shirts – between his sheets was an inviting one).

"Time to get up," he'd softly whispered, kissing her bare shoulder lightly.

"Mmm…morning," she had mumbled with a smile.

Tim had realized how little food he had in his kitchen (he was planning to go grocery shopping this weekend). "I don't know what I can make you for breakfast…" he's said, hoping she wasn't too hungry.

"That's okay, I'm not very hungry right now anyway." Tim had watched appreciatively as she sat up and stretched with her hands intertwined above her head and her back arched, pushing her breasts up and out. "Do you think you could drop me off at my apartment before you go to work?" she'd asked.

"I thought you were staying at a friend's apartment because of your broken heater."

"The guy is supposed to be coming by today to fix it, so I need to be in my apartment to see him and everything." She had smiled wryly. "Lucky me, I get to sit in a freezing apartment all day."

He had hugged her into his chest, rubbing his hand down along her arm. "I'm sorry. I could give you a sweatshirt to wear."

"Thank you, but I've got a full stock of sweaters and blankets." She had then leaned up and kissed him before sauntering into the bathroom.

As he recalled the kiss, Tim smiled, instinctively reaching his fingers up to his lips, as though to catch it and hold it in the palm of his hand. He had been sorry to have to drop her off and go to work. He had even made the suggestion that he call in sick and that he join her at her apartment to keep her company, but she had adamantly insisted he go to work. "I'd hate for you to get into trouble over me. I'll be fine."

The familiar tune of his cell phone's ringer pulled him from his thoughts. He looked at the display screen. Kimberly. "Hi," he said with a smile, forgoing his usual phone greeting of "McGee."

"I'm not bothering you, am I?"

Tim looked up. Tony and Ziva were both looking at him, having heard both his phone and his soft, warm greeting. Gibbs wasn't looking up, but Tim could tell he was listening nonetheless. "Uh, no…just…hold on one sec." He put the phone down, covering it with his hand. "Boss, I've got to go to the head."

Gibbs smiled knowingly, but waved Tim off anyway. "Don't take too long."

Tim stood and heard Tony follow suit behind him. "Yeah, I've got to go to the head too, boss."

"DiNozzo, sit down," Gibbs ordered. "You can go when McGee gets back." Tim gave his boss a thankful smile and scurried off out of ear shot.

"Sorry," he said when he replaced the phone. "I just had to get away from something. So what's up? Do you have heat again?"

"Actually, the guy called to tell me he wouldn't be able to get here until tomorrow, so I'll be crashing at my friend's house again tonight."

"You're welcome to stay at my apartment," he offered enthusiastically.

"Thank you, Tim, I may take you up on that." Tim mentally crossed his fingers. "The reason, though, that I'm calling is that I think I left my wallet in your car and I was wondering if I could drop by and grab it."

"My car? Are you sure it's not at my apartment?" He leaned back against the wall, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "Maybe I'm holding it hostage until you come by again."

Kimberly laughed. "That would be sweet, though a bit creepy…but no, I'm sure I had it when you were driving me home this morning."

"Well I'd be happy to drop it off later tonight. You don't need to come all the way out here."

"That would be nice, but I desperately need to go grocery shopping today." After a pause, she shyly added, "and anyway, I would love to see you again."

Tim was glad that she couldn't see him as he blushed. "You know, it's been so slow around here anyway, I don't see a problem with you coming down here. Give me a call when you get close and I'll go down to meet you."

"Will do," she promised. "See you soon!"

Tim closed his phone and returned to his desk. He was well aware of the looks his colleagues were giving him, but he didn't care. "You needed to use the toilet, Tony?" he asked with a grin.

"I'm fine," the agent grumbled.

"Ah, boss, my…uh, friend is dropping by to pick something up from my car. Would it be alright if I met her down there she gets here?"

"Ten minutes," was his boss' reply.

Tony leaned over his desk toward Ziva. "Think Probie and mystery girl could do the horizontal mambo in ten minutes?"

"Not if they want to do it well."

"Don't make me have to separate you two," Gibbs called out, not even bothering to look up. "The next person who mentions McGee's new girlfriend will be on lunch duty for a month."

* * *

"I'm on my way to headquarters right now. What if I can't get in?"

"Tell him you want to see where he works. Flirt with him. Put on the charm. I don't care what you do, but get it done."


	5. Chapter 4

Tim couldn't have left quicker when Kimberly finally called. Though talking about her was off-limits to everyone, he'd caught the looks of both Tony and Ziva. They were scrutinizing him for some hint of this illustrious woman. Even as he got on the elevator to go down he caught sight of Tony standing, faking a stretch, and glancing out of the window. He wouldn't be surprised if, when he came back up, both Tony and Ziva were by the window, their faces pressed against the glass. In a way, he hoped they would be able to see Kimberly. He especially hoped Tony would be able to see her. That would shut up any proclamations that she was "ugly" very quickly.

"Ten minutes!" Gibbs reminded him without looking up. They may not have had a case at the moment, but he wasn't about to let a member of his team steal away for sex on the agency's time.

"Yes, boss," Tim replied obligingly as the doors closed.

Kimberly was standing outside, hugging herself tightly to keep warm, and she smiled as he approached. "I am really sorry to make you come all the way down here. It must have slipped out of my purse."

"It's no problem," Tim insisted as he fished his keys from his pocket. "Tell me the truth, though: Did you really lose it or did you leave it there for an excuse to come down here?"

"I did really lose it…but I'm quite happy with the way it turned out," she admitted sheepishly.

Sure enough, on the floor of the passenger seat was a black leather wallet. "Sorry again," Kimberly said. She leaned down to retrieve it, leaving Tim to stealthily admire her rear end. When she righted herself and caught him staring he smiled sheepishly.

"I'm only human," he told her with a shrug.

"Well….I got what I came here for…" she said, almost sadly. "I guess I'll be going…" She stood there looking at him, her eyes asking him to give her more time to spend with him.

"Well…you don't have to go just yet," he said, mentally calculating how much time he had left of the allotted ten minutes. "Uh, I mean, we could…uh…"

"Could I see your office?"

Tim's eye brows shot up. "The office?" He was pleased knowing that she was interested in spending more time with him and getting to know him, but he didn't think she'd really be that interested in that. Besides, he could just imagine the head slap he'd receive for bringing her up and further distracting Ziva and Tony. "I don't know that today is a good day. I mean, we're just doing paper work, so it'll be kind of boring."

"I don't mind," she assured him. "I don't have much else to do anyway, and I'd love to see what you do."

"I thought you had to go grocery shopping."

She shrugged. "It's not like I can't do that later." She could see Tim wasn't completely sure that it was a good idea, so she gave him her best smile and a sweet, "Please?" It softened him, but he didn't completely cave. It was time to turn on the charm. She looped her fingers through the belt loops of his pants, pulling his hips in toward her. She pressed her chest against him and looked up at him with the most innocent look she could muster. "I want to spend as much time with you as I can."

That did it. In a moment, Tim's will power crumbled and fell, leaving behind a man just waiting to be manipulated. "Of course you can come up and see the office," he conceded. He wrapped an arm around her waist as they walked toward the building. "Just don't blame me if you're bored to tears."

* * *

As he had expected, Gibbs was not happy to see him return with Kimberly in tow and his ire grew when Ziva and Tony hopped up to meet the mysterious Kimberly. "McGee, I gave you permission to go down to your car for ten minutes; I did _not_ say that you could turn this into 'Bring Your Girlfriend to Work Day.'"

"Oh, I'm sorry, it's my fault," Kimberly insisted, stepping between the frightened agent and his irate boss. She gave the man a sweet smile, though it did little to placate him. "I was just curious for a tour of the building. He's talked about you all so much."

"Funny," Ziva commented, "he has hardly mentioned you." Her cold stare did not go unnoticed by Kimberly.

"Yeah," Tony added, though in a much more light-hearted tone than Ziva, "getting him to tell us about you was like pulling teeth."

Kimberly gave Tony a warm smile. "To be fair there isn't much to tell."

Tim grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the leering agent. "Unfortunately, Tony and Ziva still have a lot of work to do, so we should probably let them get back to that. I'll give you a quick tour," he said, emphasizing the word "quick" in hopes of satisfying Gibbs, "and then I'll walk you back down."

"Is this your desk?" She sat down in his chair and glanced around it.

"Ah, yes, but there isn't much to see there. You might be more interested in seeing Abby's lab."

"Who might be more interested in seeing my lab?" Abby was rounding the corner from the elevator. When she caught sight of a woman sitting comfortably in Tim's chair she stopped in her tracks. "Um…hi?" Kimberly, in response, sunk further back into the chair, crossing one leg over the other and looking like she owned the place. Her smile unnerved the forensic scientist.

"Oh, Abby! This is Kimberly."

Kimberly stood and extended her hand to the still unsure Abby. "I'm Tim's…well…I guess you'd say girlfriend."

Abby's eyebrows rose as she looked from Tim to Tony to Ziva to Gibbs, waiting for one of them to debunk this comment. But none of them did. "Oh…well, it's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Was there a tone of sarcasm in her tone? If there was, it went unnoticed by Tim.

"Anything we can do for you, Abbs?" Gibbs asked, wanting to avoid an awkward and potentially catty situation. Not that he doubted Abby could take this new girl, but he didn't think Abby – or NCIS for that matter – needed a law suit over something so frivolous.

Abby looked to him, all thoughts of this new girl gone from her mind. "Oh, well I've been going over some cold cases because things have been so slow and I think I may have found something in the Grissom case. I thought you may want to take a look."

As the team filed out and toward the elevator, Tim beckoned to Kimberly to follow. "Actually," she said, "I think I may just stay up here. Chemicals kind of make me light headed," she explained, wrinkling her nose.

"Oh…okay," he said, obviously disappointed. "I should be back up soon." He kissed her on the cheek, leaving her completely alone in the bull pen. When he returned minutes later she was gone with only a note telling him she'd had to go left in her place.

* * *

"It wasn't on his work computer either."

A pause. "You know what's next."

"Yes."

"We'll move tonight. That'll give us two whole days before anyone notices."

"What if it takes longer than that?"

"We'll deal with that if it comes up." Another pause. "Shouldn't take long, though. He seems too soft to hold out that long."

A laugh. "I'll be surprised if he lasts even five

* * *

**AN:** Again, thanks for the reviews! We're almost half-way through this and we'll be getting to the good stuff soon ;) Well, good for readers who enjoy seeing Tim in peril; not so good for Tim himself...


	6. Chapter 5

"So what do you think of her?" Abby knew she didn't have to clarify who "her" referred to. Tim had left to pick up lunch for the team and Gibbs had gone back up to his desk, so the trio was now free to gossip about Tim's new girlfriend.

Ziva was leaning back against the table, arms crossed. "She is…attractive," she said, though her tone dripped with doubt. "However, she is not the woman I would think McGee would be interested in."

"What are you blind?" Tony asked incredulously. "She's _gorgeous_! I have to hand it to McGeek. He bagged a total hottie!"

"Bagged?" Ziva repeated curiously.

"Got. Nabbed. Caught," Tony named each possible synonym. "Who knew the Probie could attract such a hot girl?"

Abby looked up. "Are you saying _I'm_ not a 'hot girl,' Tony?"

"No," Tony said uncomfortably, mentally kicking himself for forgetting Abby's past relationship with Tim, "of course not, Abbs…I…uh…I said 'Probie' couldn't attract such a hottie. He wasn't a Probie when he was seeing you." He smiled triumphantly, though Abby and Ziva exchanged amused glances at his expense.

"While pig-headed, Tony has a point," Ziva said. "This Kimberly does not seem like the type who would want to date a computer geek."

"You forget, though, that Tim is more than a just a federal agent computer geek now. Now, he is Thom E. Gemcity: best-selling, Armani wearing, Porsche driving author," Abby pointed out.

"Are you saying that she is only interested in him for his money?" Abby shrugged in response. Ziva sighed. "I must admit it seems like quite a possibility."

"Maybe he's paying her," Tony suggested. "You know, like _Can't Buy Me Love_."

"I thought that was a song."

"No, Ziva. I mean, yes there is a song, but there was also a movie starring Patrick Dempsey. You know…McDreamy?"

"McDreamy? Is that another of your nicknames for McGee?"

"No! McDreamy! The character Patrick Dempsey plays on _Grey's Anatomy_."

"The anatomy textbook?"

Tony generally enjoyed correcting Ziva's English, but he was beginning to lose his patience. "Not _Gray's _with an 'a,' Ziva. _Grey's _with an 'e.' It's a television show about doctors."

"Yeah, that really narrows it down, Tony," Abby cut in with a bemused smirk. "I think I can name, like, five television shows that are still on that are about doctors."

"Could we please get back to the point?" Ziva asked before she had to listen to Abby and Tony discuss how popular a subject doctors were in modern television. "Do you trust this woman?"

"Trust her? She's studying to be a kindergarten teacher! What does she need to do to earn your trust?" Tony shook his head with a grin. "I must say, the green-eyed monster is not pretty, Ziva."

"What does a monster have to do with anything?"

"He means you're jealous of her," Abby explained.

"Not just her, Abbs. I think you're regretting letting McGoo out of your hands."

"Tony, you may want to choose your words carefully," a miffed Abby told him, her mouth tight in anger. "Don't forget that I am the one person in the world–"

"Who can murder me and leave no forensic evidence," Tony finished, obviously having heard it many times before. "Yeah, I know Abbs. And yes, Ziva, I know you can kill me eighteen different ways with a paperclip," he cut in before the Mossad agent could get a word in. He grinned smugly, as though having already won this argument. "You both certainly seem touchy for two women who claim they aren't jealous."

Ziva's eyes flashed in anger. "Caring about McGee does not make us jealous, Tony," she insisted. "I am a good judge of character, and I do not trust that woman."

"What woman?" Tim entered the lab with lunch, completely clueless of what he was walking into. Tony looked at the two women expectantly.

"Yes…Abby? Ziva? Which woman is this that you don't trust?" Tony asked, loving the suddenly awkward situation. Even their combined glares couldn't dour his expression. "Are you just going to leave poor Timothy in the dark?"

"Well…uh…" Abby stammered. Though she didn't like this new girl in Tim's life, she didn't want to upset him. She made him happy and that was what was important, right? She didn't need an angry McGee on her hands.

"We are talking about Kimberly." Ziva was not so concerned about sparing feelings, especially not if her instincts were correct. Tim may not like to hear it, but she was not going to beat around the tree…or was the expression "beat around the bush"? "Abby and I were just discussing that…we are not quite sure that she is right for you."

"Right for me?" Tim asked with a grin. "Of course she is! She's sweet, she's caring, she's beautiful."

"She's hot," Tony agreed.

"Most importantly," Tim continued, "she likes me a lot. So why do you think she wouldn't be right for me?"

The women exchanged glances. Abby shook her head, not wanting to be the one to tell Tim their suspicions. Ziva sighed, seeing she would have to be the one with a backbone. "We think she may be using you. Perhaps she is dating you for your money."

Tim was silent for a moment. Was this a joke? Were they pulling his leg? "So what you're saying," he said slowly, trying to keep his tone level, "is that you don't think I could possibly attract a woman like that unless it was because of my money?"

"No! Timmy, that's not–" Abby was cut off with a cold glare from Tim. She frowned. Tim _never_ glared at her.

"Well, I'm glad to hear what you really think about me."

"McGee, you cannot take this personally."

"Personally? Ziva, you guys just told me that you think this woman is only with me for my money! How the hell do you expect me to take it?" He dropped the bag of food onto the table. "Just so you know, Kimberly hasn't asked me to buy her anything or take her to any fancy places. In fact, on our first date she was afraid I'd be spending _too much_ on her! So I think it's safe to say she has no interest in my money." No one responded to this, but Tim could still see the doubt in the women's eyes. "Is it so hard to believe she likes me for me?"

"No," Abby said quietly. "No, Tim, it's not. Ziva and I just get a bad vibe from her."

"Why? Because she's interested in me? Jealousy doesn't become either of you!" Tim snarled. "Neither of you showed me any sign of interest…or if you did it was in teasing. So I'm sorry, but you missed your opportunity. Or maybe you just like the idea that I can be your fall back guy? Either way, that's not Kimberly's fault, so I'd like it if you didn't bring her into your petty gossip! Enjoy lunch," he muttered as he stormed out of the lab.

There was a tense silence between the remaining three. No one moved or said anything for several minutes. Finally, Abby spoke up, her voice shaky. "That could have gone better."

"No," Ziva disagreed, "it would have gone the same way no matter what we did. McGee needed to know what we thought, even if he did not like to hear it. If he would like to chalk it up to envy…I can live with that."

Tony grabbed one of the bags off the table. "You girls need to take a long look at yourselves before you start making assumptions about McGee's girlfriend," he told them as he left.

"Do you think they're right?" Abby asked. She was sitting with her face in her hands and she looked to be near tears. "Do you think we're just being catty and petty?"

Ziva shook her head. "Abby, I do not let emotions get in the way when I am assessing a situation. I remain as level-headed as I can so I can make the most sensible decision. You of all people should know that," she said with a smile, recalling their slap fight two years earlier. "And I do not think you are speaking from envy either, Abby. You care about McGee and you would be happy for him if it were another woman." Abby didn't look convinced, so Ziva gently gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Do not worry, Abby; McGee will get over his anger and he will forgive you, even if we turn out to be wrong."

"I hope we _are_ wrong, Ziva. I hope Kimberly is just what Tim says she is."

"I do as well, Abby." But in her mind Ziva knew that their instincts had been correct. She sensed that something was amiss. Something was going to happen…soon.

* * *

It was nearly 9:00pm when Tim finally dragged himself home. The late work day had only worsened his mood and he was ready to simply slip into bed. After the confrontation in Abby's lab, he had gone out of his way to ignore both Abby and Ziva as much as he possibly could. The two women, in turn, would give him concerned looks, but they said nothing. Tony would watch in anticipation as though he expected a brawl or, at the very least, a shouting match. But he was to be disappointed. Tim, despite his anger, was not about to turn NCIS headquarters into _The Jerry Springer Show_. He would simply let the problem blow over and let things return to normal. Soon Abby and Ziva would see that Kimberly was a wonderful woman and get over whatever it was that had them acting so catty. And if they didn't…well, Tim couldn't really help that.

He was yawning as he entered his building. Gibbs had told them not to make any weekend plans. "We switched weekend duty with Daigle's team," he had announced to the team, ignoring their groans of protest. "If there is a case I expect you to be ready to drop whatever you're doing."

"Or _who_ever you're doing," Tony had mumbled to Tim, giving the young agent a proud slap on the back.

_Speak of the devil_, Tim thought with a smile as he neared his door. Standing outside was Kimberly, still dressed in her winter garb. In her hand was a bottle of wine "Hey," he greeted as he leaned down for a kiss. "I'm sorry…I hope you haven't been standing out here too long."

"No, I just got here," she told him. "I hope I'm not being an inconvenience…it's just that you offered…and, I thought…I mean, I hoped…"

He raised his hand to cut her off. "It's fine," he insisted. "I'm glad you're here." Her face broke into a smile.

"Thank you, Timothy." He smiled, reveling in having someone refer to him by his first name. "I even brought a little 'thank you' gift in appreciation," she said, gesturing to the bottle of wine."

"You didn't need to bring anything. I'd have let you in either way," he assured her. "Let's go in and warm you up," he said, pulling out his key. Tim knew that if a case was called in he would be forced to leave Kimberly alone, but he couldn't bear to send her away. Besides, after the day he'd had, he wanted nothing more than to be with her for the night, if for no reason other than proving Abby and Ziva wrong.

Kimberly smiled up at Tim. "I think tonight may be a very special night for both of us," she whispered to him as she walked past him into the apartment. Poor smitten Tim didn't even noticed the slightly malicious glint in her eyes as she said it.

* * *

Ziva approached the door, dreading having to face Tim. She knew he wasn't keen on speaking to her or Abby and she had been hoping to let him cool down before having to speak with him. However, Gibbs didn't care about any of the fights or silent treatments going on amongst his team, especially not when a Navy Lieutenant had been found dead in a dumpster at 2:00am. Ziva lived closest to Tim and, seeing as Gibbs had been unable to reach the young agent on his cell phone, the job of "knocking on his door and dragging him away from that girlfriend of his if necessary" (Gibbs' exact words) had been delegated to her. Ziva had to admit that the idea of dragging Tim away, while smugly smiling at the new girl, was a delightful thought.

She knocked on the door and waited. Nothing. She knocked again and waited. Still, nothing. "Perhaps he is a very sound sleeper," she muttered to herself. She knocked again, this time with more force. And again, she knocked, badly hurting her knuckles as she did so. "McGee!" she called, not caring if his neighbors complained. "McGee, it is Ziva! We have to go!" She paused and listened for a sound, for anything that would indicate that there was someone in the apartment. "McGee! If you do not answer the door Gibbs will have your head!" Ziva warned. She hoped that the worry she was feeling was not evident in her voice.

_Time to take matters into my own hands_, she thought as she pulled her tools from her pocket. If Tim was in there, in the throes of ecstasy, and she just happened to interrupt…well, then it would serve him right for not answering his phone and not answering the door. If he wasn't…no, she wasn't going to think that way. "McGee, I am coming in! I hope you are decent!"

* * *

"Gibbs," the special agent greeted when he answered his phone.

"Gibbs, it is Ziva. I am at McGee's apartment and he is not here."

Gibbs felt himself growing irate. He had given his team an order to be available. That was a rule already, but it was especially one when they had weekend duty. "He had better be either hurt or dead!" he said gruffly, not even thinking. When there was a pause on the other end he felt his anger dissipate and he began to regret his words.

"That is a very strong possibility," Ziva replied in a strained tone. She surveyed the apartment. A bottle of wine had fallen to the ground and broke open, leaving a stain of burgundy red liquid along the floor. Books, records, and various papers lay strewn about the floor. The typewriter was broken and lying on the ground, likely having been thrown in an attempt at self-defense. On the side of his work table was a smudge of fresh blood. "In fact, I would say it is most probable."


	7. Chapter 6

Tim's head was cloudy and his mouth and throat felt dry. He tried to open his eyes, but the eyelids were so heavy he could only open them to slits before they collapsed back down. _Where am I_? In his mind he tried to push through the haze and assess what he could of the situation. First, he recognized that his hands were bound above his head. His arms and shoulder sockets ached, likely from the weight of his body which pulled at them as he slumped forward. Second, he recognized that he couldn't open his mouth. _Tape_. Third, he recognized that he was seated in a chair and a rope was looped around his torso, tying him to it.

He slowly began running through his mind, trying to remember the last thing that had happened. He had gone home. Gibbs had said they had weekend duty. He was angry…he was angry at Abby and Ziva…but why? Kimberly. Kimberly was the reason. She had been there when he'd gotten home. She had been there and he had invited her in…then what? Then she had poured him a glass of wine. She said he looked tense and could use one. He'd practically downed the glass…he wanted to go to bed with her…and she had wanted to as well…hadn't she? Yes…they were in the middle of kissing and caressing…and…what? A noise? Yes, a noise behind him. He'd turned around to see a man…a fist coming at him. He ducked. He hit the man in the chest. He told Kimberly to run…get help. The bottle of wine was knocked over…shattered in pieces. His body was pushed against the bookcase…he grabbed books from it as ammunition and began throwing. Had he hit the man?

Tim's face felt sore. His head was throbbing and he felt a sticky, damp substance on the right of his forehead. He knew something must have gone wrong for him at some point in the evening considering he was here, bound and gagged, and not safe at home. The fight, though, began to growing hazy in his mind. He remembered that he had started to get woozy…then his head had been hit…or had hit something. Then it was all black.

As Tim replayed the events in his head his mind began to grow clearer. He recognized the situation he was in. Now what did he do? What time was it? Where was he? Why was he here? Was Kimberly safe?

"I think he's waking up," a voice said. The voice sounded so far away. "Should we begin?"

"No," another voice, this one nearer, countered. "Let him get his bearings. We'll need him fully alert."

"Bad news," a third voice interrupted. "It seems one of the other agents has discovered he is missing. They are already on their way to his apartment."

"Dammit!" the second voice cursed.

"I guess they saw the mess," the first voice suggested.

"You think?" the second voice retorted sarcastically. "Who knew the little geek was going to fight back? Are you sure you dropped the roofie in there?"

"Positive," the first voice replied with a tone that indicated the person did not appreciate being doubted.

"You careful not to leave behind any fingerprints, weren't you?" the second voice inquired.

"Yes," the first voice assured curtly, "I was very careful, just like you said." Pause. "So what do we do next? Should I go to the headquarters?" The voice sounded strangely familiar to Tim.

"You said the two women there seemed suspicious of you."

"They were, but I've got the other agent wrapped around my finger, I think." There was a pause as the three voices considered how to proceed. "They will be launching an investigation and we may not have as much time as we had hoped. If I can distract them long enough…"

"You'll go," the second voice agreed. "Drop her off a block away, Morris."

Tim finally pried his eyes open. Kimberly?

* * *

"Ziva, interview the neighbors and anyone who is at the front desk. Tony, start dusting for prints," Gibbs barked out when he entered the apartment of his missing team member. His other team members shot each other worried looks before scurrying off to carry out his orders. Gibbs knew they were worried. He too was worried for Tim, but they needed to get right to work on finding him. This wasn't the time to stand around and worry. Tim was counting on them.

Gibbs assessed the apartment. There were obvious signs of a struggle and, judging by the blood stain on the work table, at least one person had been injured. Gibbs silently hoped it was one of the assailants as he took a sample of the blood for Abby. He winced as he thought about her. She was likely asleep right now, unaware of what had happened. He knew he'd have to call her soon and have her get to work, running fingerprints and blood samples.

Gibbs looked at the open front door. It hadn't been kicked in, of that he was sure. Did Tim know his assailant or assailants? Had he let them in willingly? Possibly. It was equally possible that the assailants had picked the lock of the door. Gibbs crouched down beside the door. He pulled out his pocket flashlight and shone it into the door's lock. "The lock was picked," he affirmed.

"Ziva picked it, boss," Tony reminded him. "She had to get inside."

Gibbs shook his head as he examined the lock. "It's been picked twice. One time was with professional tools and one time was with something like a hairpin."

Tony shrugged. "Makes sense. Someone picked the lock and snuck up on McGee while he was asleep. He was pretty tired when he left the office," Tony pointed out. "I wouldn't be surprised if he crashed as soon as he got in."

"But if he had been subdued in his bedroom there would be a mess in there, not out here." The agents glanced in the bedroom for any sign that part of the struggle had taken place in there. It was almost pristine.

"So then he was in this area when they broke in? Wouldn't he have noticed them picking his lock?" Tony asked. He ran the situation through his head, trying to better understand what had happened. "Maybe he was in the bedroom or bathroom when they picked the lock and caught them in the act of…well, whatever it was they were doing."

"I don't think so, DiNozzo. If Tim had heard them out here he would have either armed himself with his gun before coming out or he would have called someone."

"Or both," Tony said. There were no bullet holes anywhere nor was there any sign of a gun having gone off, so it was unlikely that Tim was armed when he was attacked. As for calling for help, none of them had received a call from him, and there was no doubt that, if he was in trouble, they would be the ones he called. "So they picked the lock, and Tim didn't hear it, but he wasn't in the bedroom or bathroom when it happened. That must mean…" Tony trailed off, not quite sure what it meant.

"It means they picked the lock while he was gone. They were already here waiting when he got in." Gibbs pushed past Tony into Tim's bedroom. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. He opened the door into the bathroom. "Aha," he muttered, catching sight of a muddy shoe print on the ground. It was faint and only partial, but it was a start.

"Gibbs," Ziva called from the doorway between Tim's bedroom and the rest of his apartment, "I talked to the neighbors. The man who lives to the left of McGee has been out of town for the past two days. The woman who lives to the right claims she did not hear anything, but that she also did not get home until after 11:00pm."

"McGee must have gotten home at around 9:00pm or so," Tony chimed in, "so assuming the neighbor didn't just sleep through the struggle there's a likely two hour period during which this took place."

"The woman who lives across the hall claims she heard glass breaking at around 9:15pm or so, but did not think anything of it."

Gibbs nodded. "That sounds about right. If they were already waiting for him they would have attacked almost immediately after he got home. What about the front desk? Did they notice anyone suspicious come in?"

"The man said a little before 9:00pm a woman who he had not seen before came in alone, but he did not see her leave. The description he gave of her is very similar to the way Kimberly looks."

"McGee's new girlfriend?"

"Not that surprising, boss. She probably dropped by to see him. When they came in the men attacked. Maybe they threatened to hurt her if McGee didn't cooperate."

"Or perhaps she is not a victim," Ziva said coolly, her previous suspicions of Kimberly flaring up. "Do you not find it odd that after knowing each other for less than a week this woman has become so attached to McGee? Now McGee is missing and a woman fitting her description was seen here almost at the exact time it happened."

"Come off it, Ziva!" Tony insisted. "First of all, the door's lock was picked. Why would she have to pick the lock? McGee would have let her in. Hell, he may have already given her a key. Second, I don't think Kimberly has the strength to take on McGee. He may not be He-Man, but he'd have no problem taking on a woman who probably weighs less than 100 pounds."

"McGee is a gentleman, Tony. It is not in his nature to roughly handle women, even in defense. He would have hesitated, perhaps even have doubted himself."

"So then why the mess, Ziva?" Gibbs asked. "McGee fought _someone_ here. This woman may be involved, but right now we have to harbor under the assumption that she is a victim, not a co-conspirator."

Ziva crossed her arms, obviously not in agreement with either of the men. Still, she nodded, willing to put away the proverbial pitchfork for the time being. She was just about to exit the bedroom when something caught her eye. She leaned in and examined.

"This window was opened recently." Both men turned to see Ziva standing near the bedroom window, studying it.

"How can you tell?" Tony asked.

"It was lightly snowing this evening and the inside of the window sill is wet along with the floor surrounding it."

Gibbs nodded in agreement. "Makes sense. They couldn't push him out the front door, especially not if he had been knocked unconscious. They dragged him out this way."

"Hard to imagine a slim woman dragging McGee out of a window, isn't it Ziva?" Tony commented, smiling in satisfaction as the woman glared at him. A head slap knocked the smile right off his face. "Sorry, boss."

Gibbs didn't have time for this petty rivalry between Tony and Ziva, especially not with Tim's life on the line. He gave Tony a level stare and jerked his thumb back toward the window. "Fingerprints."

"Yes, boss," Tony responded, quickly getting to work.

Ziva and Gibbs walked back into the main apartment area as Tony went about trying to lift fingerprints. Gibbs busied himself by bagging and tagging almost everything that looked like it may be evidence, including an almost empty wine glass, five text books that had been thrown to the ground, a screwdriver that was lying in the middle of the floor, and pages of Tim's next book that lay strewn about the floor.

Ziva had begun taking pictures. She could feel how tense everyone was, including Gibbs. It was different when it was someone you didn't know. You could concentrate on your job. When it was a friend, though, your mind would begin to wander as you imagined what horrible things must be happening. Though the man would never admit it, Ziva knew Gibbs was frightened for Tim's life and he was having trouble concentrating. "Are you afraid he is dead?"

"No," Gibbs said confidently. "If they were just interested in killing him they would have done it and left the body behind. They wouldn't have gone to all the trouble of sneaking him out of the building. They want something from him."

"The question is what."

"He's not only a federal agent, Ziva, but also a highly skilled computer expert. For all we know they want him to hack into the Pentagon."

Ziva was momentarily quiet. "If they do have the girl they will likely use her to make him cooperate."

"And if they don't have her?"

Ziva was again quiet. Her mind raced with images of interrogations she had done. Not the kind that she did for NCIS. These interrogations weren't quite legal, at least not in America. She knew how to cause pain so excruciating that the prisoner would pray for death. "If they do not have her...it will be a test of McGee's strength and endurance."

* * *

When she brought the fingerprints and blood down to the forensics lab, Ziva wasn't entirely surprised at the state Abby was in. Her face was completely free of make-up – no pale white foundation, no black eyeliner, no black lipstick – and completely tear stained. Her hair hung loosely around her face instead of in her trademark pigtails. "Abby…I have fingerprints and…blood," she told her, not wanting to even say the word.

Abby fled toward the other woman, grabbing her in a tight hug. "Ziva!" she sobbed out. "Tim…he's gone!"

"I know. Abby," Ziva replied, trying to stay calm.

"He's gone and we had that fight today…yesterday…" The woman was nearly hysterical. "Who would do this?"

Ziva pulled herself out of Abby's hug and gently took the Goth scientist's shoulders, holding her still. "I do not know yet. I understand you are upset, but if we are going to find him we need you to work on these. For McGee's sake," she added as an extra push.

Abby was still crying, but she nodded. "I-I know," she choked out. She gingerly took the fingerprints and blood. She placed the blood to the side, choosing instead to concentrate on the fingerprints. "Do you think…do you think _she_…?" Abby couldn't even finish the thought.

Ziva knew where she was going with it, though. "I do not know what to think. I do find it strange that she pops up so suddenly and now McGee is suddenly missing." Ziva wasn't sure if she should confide in Abby that a woman fitting Kimberly's description had been seen entering his apartment building that night. While she still had strong suspicions that the woman was up to no good, there was no sign so far that she had been involved in the abduction and Ziva did not like making accusations so liberally. Besides, Kimberly being at her new boyfriend's apartment did not mean she herself was guilty. If anything, it was possible she was a victim as well.

"Should we get in touch with her about the kidnapping? I mean, I still don't like her, but if Tim is in trouble and she really does like him, it would be only fair that she know, right?"

Ziva sighed. "She may already know, Abby. A woman fitting her description entered the building last night. At this point we are assuming that whatever McGee's abductors want they will use her to get it."

Abby's eyes flashed in anger. "Or she's a part of the plan!" she cried. "We should be tracking _her_ down!"

"Abby, I do not disagree," Ziva assured her, "but we do not have evidence that this woman was involved in McGee's disappearance. We will most likely follow-up on her, but right now we must first figure out what we have proof of. If one of those fingerprints is Kimberly's perhaps she has a record."

"And if she does," Abby said, now defiant and certain that she would bring down the people responsible for this, "I will track her down! She will not be able to hide from me! I'm…I'm…" she paused, trying to think of the scariest and most ominous assassin name she could think of. "I'm…The Bloodsucker!"

For the first time since she had set foot inside Tim's apartment earlier that morning, Ziva found herself smiling. "I believe you, Abby. And I believe _in_ you." The Mossad officer turned to leave, but was stopped by a small voice behind her.

"Ziva…do you honestly think we'll find him?" Abby asked, her confidence suddenly gone. "And don't lie. I can tell when you're lying."

Ziva chose her words carefully. "I believe we have the ability to pool our resources and find him." And she did. "I also believe that Tim is intelligent enough to keep himself alive until we do find him." What Ziva didn't express to Abby were her concerns of what condition Tim would be in when they did find him. That was something she simply didn't need to think about.

* * *

A harried, tearful woman burst through the doors of NCIS headquarters. Her coat was torn, her hair was a mess, and her face was pale and frightened. "Do you need help, ma'am?" one of the security guards asked, feeling almost foolish for doing so. Judging by the state she was in it was obvious she did need help.

The woman wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. "Y-yes…I need to speak to special agent Gibbs! Please!" When the guard didn't immediately move she grabbed his shirt. "It's an emergency!"

The man pulled the frantic woman off of him. "What is this pertaining to, ma'am?"

At that she nearly broke down crying. Her shoulders shook with sobs that wanted to come out. She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back and off her face. "My boyfriend…he's been kidnapped! I think they're going to kill him!"


	8. Chapter 7

"Thank you, Agent DiNozzo," a red-eyed Kimberly said as Tony handed her a tissue. She had been brought up only a minute ago, tears streaming down her cheeks. Tony had immediately offered her his chair as Ziva and Gibbs looked on, both slightly skeptical.

"Why don't you tell us what happened, Ms. Newman?" Gibbs suggested as she blew her nose. "We know that Agent McGee was attacked in his apartment." Kimberly nodded. "I'm guessing you were also abducted." She nodded again. "Start at the beginning."

"Well, Tim had invited me over for the night…we went inside and I poured him a glass of wine – he looked upset about something," she added. "Suddenly…these three men came out of the bedroom and tried to grab us. Tim shouted to me to get out."

"What did you do?"

"I tried to run. One of them grabbed me before I could get out."

"Did you scream?"

"He covered my mouth, Agent Gibbs. I'm not quite sure what happened. Tim was fighting them and…there was a loud thump. When I turned to look, Tim was slumped over." Her eyes began tearing up again and she dabbed at her cheeks with the tissue. "I thought he was dead until the men started talking to each other about getting him out. They dragged him out of the window and forced me out as well. We were brought to a black van."

"License plate?"

Kimberly shook her head. "I didn't see it," she told them apologetically. "They pushed me in with Tim. He was unconscious the entire time."

"Where did they take you?"

"Some cabin…I'm not sure where exactly."

"Do you know what they wanted from Agent McGee?"

Kimberly took a deep breath, her body shaking as she did so. "Yes…I heard them talking about him hacking into…I think they said the CIA…" Gibbs, Ziva, and Tony exchanged glances at the mention of the CIA. Whatever this was, it sounded big.

"Do you remember anything about the men?"

"They were Middle Eastern. They talked about revenge on America."

"You saw them?" Ziva asked in surprise. "How did you manage to get out?"

"Tim…he…" Kimberly trailed off. She ran the heel of her hand across her cheek. "He said he wouldn't cooperate unless they released me." At that she began sobbing once again, body bent over. "He was only concerned with my safety…I don't want him to die…" Tony gently placed his hand on her back.

"It's okay, Ms. Newman," he assured her. "We will find him."

"Is everything alright?" The group looked up to see Abby standing there. Like Kimberly her eyes were red, though Abby's red eyes looked far more genuine than Kimberly's. "I…I just thought you'd want to know that the blood you found was Tim's."

"Yeah, Abbs. Kimberly confirmed that he was knocked unconscious," Gibbs said softly to her.

"Also, all of the fingerprints found belonged to Tim, so no luck there." Was it Abby's imagination or did Kimberly's eyes light up at that.

"I should be going," Kimberly said quietly as she stood and grabbed her things. "I'll only be in the way with the investigation."

"Not just yet," Gibbs said. He reached out and gently grabbed her shoulder. He felt her body tense up beneath his hand. "I want our medical examiner to check you out before you go."

"That's really not necessary, Agent Gibbs. They didn't hurt me."

"I don't care. I still want him to see you before you leave." Gibbs gestured to Tony to lead Kimberly down to Ducky. "After that, bring her to Abby's lab to put together a sketch of the men who kidnapped her and McGee."

Both Abby and Ziva had dark, dour looks as they watched the woman leave. Abby's arms were crossed, her mouth tight. Ziva's hand was gently pressed against her concealed knife as thought Kimberly may turn and try to attack at any moment. But she didn't. The young woman walked with Tony to the elevator, still seemingly in grief.

"Such alligator tears," Ziva said as soon as the elevator doors closed.

"Crocodile tears," Abby corrected. "And I agree. She didn't have an ounce of sorrow in her body."

"Tony seems to have fallen for it."

"Tony's a man and she's a pretty woman who is crying. It's a natural male instinct to comfort a crying woman, Ziva."

"You don't seem moved by her little act," Ziva said to Gibbs who was seated at his desk.

"I've had three ex-wives, Ziva," Gibbs reminded her. "I'm not exactly a stranger to crying women."

"So you agree then that she must be a part of whatever plot McGee has become a victim in, yes?"

"I agree that her tears are hollow. Fake tears, though, do not make someone a suspect."

"It does not make sense, though. Why, if they are looking for McGee to cooperate, would they release her? They would lose their leverage. If they were using her to make him cooperate they would not have released her until he had done what they wanted – if they released her at all." Ziva was pacing before her desk. "And to release a prisoner who had seen their faces and could possibly identify them? It does not add up at all." She stopped, a thought suddenly coming to her. "She said she poured him a glass of wine, did she not?"

Abby's brow furrowed. "But…there were no fingerprints on the wine glass or broken shards of glass from the bottle. Well, except for McGee's."

Ziva pursed her lips. "I think there may be more to Ms. Kimberly Newman than meets the eye."

* * *

Tim's mind was completely clear now, though he wished he were unconscious again. His wrists were beginning to bleed as the fabric of his tie rubbed against them, his arms were sore, and his fingers were numb. His head was throbbing, not only from hitting the table the night before, but from the punches he had received from the man. He had been punched in the face for asking questions. He had been punched in the gut for talking back. It had taken him a good few seconds to get his breath back after that one.

They hadn't told him yet what they wanted. They were working him over now, hoping he would be less likely to resist when they told him what it was they needed him to do.

_No_, he told himself. _You won't give in. The others will find you. They will. Just keep going. Stay strong._

He heard someone coming and prepared himself for the next round.

* * *

"Well, you seem to be in very good condition considering what you went through," Ducky said to Kimberly as Tony helped her put her torn coat back on. "I'd say your clothing suffered more harm than you did." He couldn't quite keep the doubt out of his tone.

Kimberly, though, just smiled sadly. "Tim made sure I wasn't hurt. I owe him so much."

Behind them the automatic doors opened and Ziva entered with Abby following close behind. "Ms. Newman, before you go I was hoping you could clear something up," Ziva said in a cool tone. "You said you poured Timothy a glass of wine prior to the attack. Yet, we did not find your fingerprints on the wine glass or the wine bottle."

"I was still wearing my winter coat and gloves," Kimberly said without missing a beat. "It was so cold in the apartment and I like to keep warm, especially my hands."

Ziva frowned. When she had entered Tim's building she had found the heater to be working very well, especially in his apartment. It certainly wasn't cold enough to keep someone bundled up in a coat and gloves. "It is quite strange that we did not find any of your fingerprints in the apartment considering you spent the night there on Thursday."

Kimberly stiffened. "Did Tim tell you that?"

"You were seen entering the building with Tim that night and you left with him the following morning. I do not think it takes a brain scientist to figure out that you were there for the night."

Kimberly's mouth tightened and her eyes narrowed. "Am I on trial here, Ms. David?"

"Of course not," Tony jumped in before Ziva had a chance to reply. He shot the Mossad officer a glare. "We just need to examine all angles. Please don't take it personally."

Kimberly was all smiles. "Thank you, Agent DiNozzo. I do understand that it is your job to suspect everyone. I just hope that Timothy is found soon." She buttoned up her coat and began putting on her gloves, well aware of the cold looks she was receiving from Abby and Ziva. "I'll catch a cab."

"I'd gladly drive you."

Ziva nudged Tony. "Gibbs does not want you leaving the building. He does not want any of us leaving until we can get a lead. In fact," she added, glancing at her watch, "he is probably expecting us to be back at our desks very soon."

"That's alright, Agent DiNozzo. I am okay with getting a cab. My friend is expecting me."

"You will need to give us a number where you can be reached," Ziva instructed.

"Of course," Kimberly replied with a tight smile. She patiently gave them a contact number, though Ziva recognized that the woman was growing more and more anxious. "Now, if you'll excuse me, it's been a tiring ordeal and I'd like to just get home."

"Actually, Gibbs needs you to come down to my lab and put together a picture of what the men looked like," Abby told her, grabbing Kimberly's arm a bit harder than she needed to. "After that, I'll escort you up to drop off your visitor badge."

"Please," Kimberly pleaded, "I'm exhausted after the night I had. Can't this wait."

"_You're_ exhausted?" Abby asked in a strained tone. "Just think how Tim feels. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can find him. You _do_ want us to find him, don't you?"

"Of course I do!" Kimberly all but spat out. "I'll put together a sketch, but after that I'm going home to recuperate."

Kimberly bid them all good-bye, shooting Tony a particularly sweet smile, before she and Abby left. Tony watched with an impish grin on his face. Ziva watched with the same narrow-eyed glare she had been giving Kimberly since she had met the woman. Ducky simply watched, unsure what to think of the young woman who seemed to have bewitched Timothy McGee. There was something that was troubling him.

* * *

"Did they buy it?" Tim's ears perked up as he heard the door open. One of the men was talking to whomever had just come in. He had a pretty good idea who it was.

"I don't know. The two women are still suspicious, I can tell. The Israeli is asking a few too many questions. We should move fast."

"We've already started. Just loosening him up."

"How is he handling it?"

"I have to say he's got more in him than I thought. He's got some spunk." Tim would have puffed out his chest in pride if the situation wasn't what it was…and if it weren't still sore from being hit. "I'm thinking it may take more time."

"Nah." A third voice joined the party. "We've been going easy on him. Once we _really_ start…well…I think he'll snap like a twig. He's a computer geek, a softie." Tim felt the ire rising inside of him. That was even more of an incentive to not give in. He would prove them wrong. He wasn't going to let them break him.

* * *

"It puzzled me, Jethro," Ducky confided. "The girl hadn't a mark on her. Her clothing was torn and dirty and her hair was askew, but _she_ was unmarred. She didn't have any markings on her wrists or her body to indicate that she had been bound or even roughly handled."

"She said one of them grabbed her," Ziva told him.

"They may have had a gun on her and so she didn't struggle," Tony suggested half-heartedly. Even he had to admit that some things simply weren't adding up.

"But why would they have released her if they could use her to manipulate McGee? She claims to have seen their faces, so releasing her so early could be potentially harmful to whatever their operation is," Ziva said as she began pacing back and forth. "I still do not understand how his apartment could be completely void of any of her fingerprints. Even if she were still wearing gloves when she entered the apartment last night, how could she have conceivably spent the night there without leaving a single print behind?"

"She was being cautious not to," Gibbs surmised. "She didn't want us to find her prints and run them."

Ziva crossed her arms. "I believe we need to get this Ms. Newman back here to answer some questions." She turned to Tony. "She left you a number, though I suspect it is fake."

Tony flipped open his cell phone and dialed the number that had been given to him. After a few moments his eyes darkened. "It's the phone number for some Chinese restaurant." He flipped the phone closed. "She is probably long gone now."

"We need to figure out who this Kimberly is and what she wants from McGee," Gibbs ordered. "I don't care if you have to dust the entire building for prints or have to run her photo through every database, I want answers!"

"I've got them, Gibbs!" Abby's voice called out from over the visifone. The group turned to see her on the screen. "You're going to love me!"

"I already love you, Abbs. Tell me what you've got."

"You'll want to get down here. It seems Tim's new girlfriend has an interesting past."


	9. Chapter 8

"What have you got, Abby?" Gibbs asked as he entered her lab. Ziva, Tony, and Ducky were close behind.

"Right to the point, I see." Normally, Abby would have teased Gibbs, making him wait for the information until he relinquished the Caf-Pow he had brought down or threatened to start head slapping her. This time, though, she got straight to the point. With Tim's life in the line she was in no mood to beat around the bush. She didn't even pout at the lack of Caf-Pow. "I ran Miss Newman's prints–"

"You found her prints?" Ziva cut in. "In Tim's apartment?"

Abby looked back and forth between Ziva and Gibbs, her eyes lowering in guilt. "Well, uh, when I escorted her out I…uh…kinda, sorta…took her visitor badge…" she explained sheepishly. "I let her return it so she wouldn't be suspicious, but then I got it back and ran the prints."

Ziva smiled in approval. "That was sneaky, Abby."

"You said you had results," Gibbs reminded.

"Yes, I did." Abby turned back to her computer and pulled up a mug shot of a slim, blonde woman with green eyes. If you were to shorten the hair, color both it and the eyes with brown and add a tan…well, you would be looking at none other than Kimberly Newman. "Her real name is Holly Sommers. Born in New Jersey in 1980, she was arrested in 1999 for breaking and entering and then again in 2001 for aggravated assault." She clicked another link and new photos popped up, these depicting Kimberly – or Holly, rather – with a man of the same age.

"What are these pictures?"

"These, Gibbs, are pictures of Holly from FBI surveillance."

"Why is the FBI watching her?"

They aren't watching here. They were watching the man with her." Abby cropped the face of the man and increased the image. "That is Sal Scaletti."

"I know that name," Tony murmured in as he leaned in for a better look.

"He and his brother, John, were suspected of drug smuggling and had been under FBI surveillance for months. Apparently, Holly was Sal's girlfriend."

"What has this got to do with McGee or NCIS?" Ziva asked.

"Well, their partner is assumed to be a former petty officer by the name of Morris Pelino. His C.O., Sergio Roberts, suspected Morris was dealing with some unsavory characters and confronted him about it. The next night Roberts was found dead and a witness placed Sal Scaletti at the scene of the crime. NCIS was called in to run an investigation with the FBI."

"Case agent?" Gibbs asked.

Abby clicked on a link to the file. "Uh…Wanda Lenley."

"Where did Sommers, Pelino, and John Scaletti go after Sal was arrested?"

"They fell off the grid, Gibbs," Abby told him. "None of them have been seen since the arrest."

"Why would they kidnap McGee if he had nothing to do with the case?" Tony cut in.

Abby looked thoughtful for a moment, then her eyes widened. "Agent Lenley…she asked Tim if he could go through the computer they confiscated from Scaletti's apartment. He didn't find anything, though. At least, not that he mentioned," she said with a frown.

"Maybe they think he saw something he shouldn't have?"

Gibbs shook his head. "Then they would have just killed him. They need something from him."

"Also, one of the glasses you brought in – the one with Tim's fingerprints – had a little wine left which I ran through my mass spectrometer." Abby pulled up the results on her computer screen. "There was definitely Rohypnol in there."

"Someone slipped McGee a roofie?"

"It would appear so, Tony. My guess is Kimb – er – _Holly_, had planned to drug him and then she and the other two goons dragged him out."

"If he was drugged why was there a mess from a struggle?" Tony asked.

Abby shrugged. "Maybe they didn't expect him to fight back so much."

Gibbs stalked out the room, calling out behind him, "That's good work, Abbs!"

* * *

Tim's screams and groans of pain were dead ended by the tape across his mouth. He was breathing heavily, though with each breath his ribs and stomach ached. That, though, was to be expected when a long, blunt object was smacked against your torso.

"Come on, Agent McGee, you can't hold out forever." The behemoth that stood towering over him didn't look as though he had a single fiber of mercy or decency in him. In fact, Tim was certain the man was enjoying it. The ape smacked the object against Tim's side, smiling as he heard a satisfying crack. His grin grew when he heard Tim's muffled screams.

"Be careful!" another voice warned. "He will need his hands, so at least keep them in working order."

Tim was panting and softly crying as Kimberly approached him. In her hand was a water bottle filled with water; on her lips was a sneer that was so different from the woman he had come to know over the past few days. Of course, she _was_ a different woman all together.

"Thirsty?" she asked in a condescending tone. Tim glared up at her, neither nodding nor shaking his head. He gave her no response whatsoever. She laughed, throwing her head back with glee. "Aw, Timmy! Are you never going to speak to me again?"

Tim's body was shaking with a combination of rage, pain, and fear. Without explanation, his mind went back to the conversation he'd had with Tony the previous Monday. He realized how right Tony had been. This woman was ugly, there was no doubt about it. She was _ugly_.

Kimberly ripped the tape from his mouth and the first thing he spat out was, "You're ugly."

She smiled as though she hadn't just been insulted. "Look at you trying to be tough." She shoved the water bottle into his mouth and tilted it back. Tim felt the water rush into his arid mouth. He was grateful for the hydration, but it slipped in too quickly and he was soon coughing and hacking for air.

"You're the ugliest…woman…I've ever…met," he sputtered out between gasps.

Kimberly rolled her eyes and stuck the tape back over his mouth. "We can end this now," she told him. "You just have to cooperate." She squatted down in front of him so that their eyes were level and took his chin her hand. "Are you ready to cooperate, Timmy?"

He yanked his face from her grasp defiantly, a sign to her that he still had some strength left in him. She sighed and shook her head sadly.

"Have at him, John," she ordered the man who had been using Tim as his own personal piñata.

Tim closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, ready for the next blow…he hoped.

* * *

"Agent Lenley!" The middle-aged woman stood as she saw Gibbs approaching. "I need to ask you about the Scaletti case."

"Ask away, Gibbs." She perched herself atop her desk, arms folded.

"We believe that Agent McGee's abduction may be related to the case and I want to know why."

Lenley furrowed her brow. "I can't imagine, Gibbs," she said earnestly. "I asked McGee to do some computer work for me, but he didn't find anything."

"What about your report?"

She shrugged. "The FBI took the lead on this as they were already in place. I was more their stenographer than anything else."

"Could I look at their report on the case?"

"I could ask for it, but it may take a while."

"What would be in there?"

"Uh, evidence from the crime scene, pictures, witness statements," she counted off, ticking each thing off on one finger.

"What witnesses?"

"Well, a few of Pelino's fellow officers overheard his heated argument with Roberts about his associates outside of the Corps. Then, of course, there was Jill Preston, the young woman who placed Sal Scaletti at the scene of the crime at the time Roberts was murdered."

"How important are those testimonies?"

"We wouldn't have much of a case if we couldn't place him at the crime scene." Lenley stood. "Do you think Preston could be in trouble?"

"I think it's a strong possibility. I don't think protection detail would be overkill."

Lenley shook her head. "Due to the delicate nature of the case, the FBI relocated her until the trial. It's need to know and I, it seems, do not need to know."

"Would her relocation details be in an FBI profile."

"It's possible, but I couldn't say for sure."

Gibbs turned to go, looking back over his shoulder to Lenley. "You get in touch with whoever you worked with over there and tell them their witness may be in trouble." He had made it to the steps, heading up to Director Shepherd's office, when he heard someone calling him.

"Gibbs!" Abby ran toward him. "We may have a location on Sommers!"

Gibbs turned on a dime and sprinted toward her. He grabbed her and pulled her toward the elevator, not wanting to stop for a moment until Tim was found.

* * *

Tim couldn't remember when he had been in this much pain. _Probably never_, he thought to himself. His muscles were practically mush and he was slumped in the chair. He wished his body would stop shaking. It showed just how much he had weakened in the past hours.

His tormentors were sitting before him, chatting with each other as though he wasn't sitting there in pain. Every so often they would look up from their hushed conversation to look at him.

"Why?" he finally asked. The tape had been peeled off his lips some time ago, but he'd had very little to say. What he did have to say involved words that would make a sailor blush and his comments had only earned him more, harder blows. "Why do you need me to hack into the FBI?"

"Ready to cooperate?" The man – John – asked.

Tim scowled, though he couldn't deny how close he was to giving in. "I simply want to know what you're expecting me to do. I'm not agreeing to anything."

John stood and strode toward Tim. "You see, Agent McGee, it all began when your Goddamn agency stuck their nose where it didn't fucking belong." He pulled a picture out and held it in front of Tim's face. "Look familiar?"

Tim glanced at the photo. He couldn't quite place the name, but he knew the man looked familiar.

As quickly as it had been shoved in his face, the photo was snapped away. "My brother, Agent McGee. Sal Scaletti?"

Tim visibly paled as he recalled the case. It hadn't been investigated by Gibbs' team, but Tim had been called upon for his computer expertise to go through Scaletti's computer. He remembered certain details of the case and knew that these people he was dealing with were not your run-of-the-mill criminals. "And this is some kind of revenge for you?" he spat out. John, Kimberly, and the other man – Morris – laughed.

"If this were about revenge you'd already be dead," John assured him. "What we need is the file on the case."

"This could have been so much easier if NCIS had just had a complete file," Kimberly told him as though this entire thing were the fault of NCIS. "Then we wouldn't need you to hack into the FBI."

"What do you need the file for?" He grunted as John's foot connected with his gut.

"You ask a lot of questions. Curiosity killed the cat. Though," he added with a sadistic grin, "in this case it'll get his knee caps broken."

"I want to know what I may be getting myself into," Tim snarled. "If you can't tell me…"

John cocked his head to the side. "You've got spunk, Agent McGee, I'll give you that." He and Kimberly exchanged looks, ending with mutual nods. "Very well, then. My brother was accused of murdering some Marine. This, of course, is a blatant lie," John explained with a slimy smile that indicated he didn't even truly believe that. "However, one little bitch felt it necessary to tell the authorities that she saw Sal at the crime scene when the guy was killed." The man leaned down so that he and Tim were face to face. "The FBI has hidden the little wench and we need you to find out where so we can…talk some sense into her."

Tim glowered. He wasn't stupid. The moment he gave this man the girl's location both he and she were as good as dead. Yes, Tim's body was in excruciating pain, but he couldn't bear the thought of signing some innocent woman's death warrant. He'd rather have his bones broken than to go through the rest of his life – no matter how short it may be – knowing he was responsible for not only getting this woman killed, but for letting a Marine's murderer get away.

"So what is the verdict?" John asked. Tim spat on his shoe in response. He had seen it happen in movies and it seemed like it would make him seem braver. Really, though, it only made his mouth feel even dryer.

John sighed. "Such a shame that you have to be so difficult," he lamented as he pulled out a gun. He aimed it at his target. "Last chance to change your mind." Tim said nothing, just glared, though there was no hiding the fear he felt inside. "Fine." John pulled the trigger and the bullet hit Tim's right knee cap.

A mixture of white and red clouded Tim's vision as the pain seared through him. He chocked back groans and cries of pain, but he couldn't stop the tears. "Dammit!" he screeched in a tone he'd never used before.

John, seeing that his point had been well-taken, calmly strode back to where Kimberly and Morris sat. The trio watched the man squirm and shriek in utter pain.

* * *

**AN:** What makes us so sadistic that we actually _want _to see our favorite characters in pain? Poor Tim...


	10. Chapter 9

"Boss, we got a fix on Sommers' cell phone."

"Yeah, DiNizzo, Abby told me on the way down. How did you get a fix without her cell phone number?"

"We didn't," Abby said with one of her cheeky grins.

"Abbs…"

"Gibbs, we had her number." Gibbs looked between Abby and Tony, waiting for an explanation. "She gave us a phony number, but Tony had already stolen her real number from Tim's phone."

Gibbs looked at the senior field agent who actually looked slightly abashed. "You were trying to pick up Tim's girlfriend?"

"I just wanted to be prepared if – heaven forbid – they were to, you know…break up or something."

"You're a dog," Ziva hissed at him.

"Hey! If I hadn't taken the number from his phone we wouldn't have her current location, now would we?"

"He's right, Ziva," Abby chimed in. "Sometimes his behavior has its benefits."

"Can we get back to Sommers?" Gibbs bellowed.

"Yes, oh captain, my captain." Abby pulled up a screen. "Her phone was just recently turned on and she made a call to some travel agency."

"They must be looking to leave the country soon," Ziva commented.

"I'll put out a BOLO to all airlines," Tony volunteered.

"I have no intention of letting them get that far, Tony," Gibbs told him.

Abby continued. "I can tell you that when she made the call she was located within this thirty mile radius."

Gibbs looked at the blinking circle. "What's out there?"

"Warehouses, many abandoned," Ziva told him.

"What about the other ones?"

"They are currently empty."

"Gear up!" Gibbs ordered. "Tony gas the sedan. Abby, I want you on the car phone for directions. Tell me if you can get in closer on her." He turned to go, but he found himself engulfed in an Abby hug.

"Gibbs," she whispered tearfully, "bring him back alive…"

He returned the hug. "You know I will, Abbs."

* * *

Tim's body was numb, though he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He had clenched his eyes closed to avoid seeing the blood seeping from his wound. It had been haphazardly dressed with a white towel in a half-assed attempt to keep him from bleeding to death. Not that they cared about his life, of course, but he would be of little use if he died. Tim, though, had made it his mission to be of no use to them at all.

Somehow in this state of pain and suffering, his hearing ability had increased. He could now hear and understand every word being said clearly.

"Look, we can't waste much more time on him."

"He's going to break. Trust me."

"He won't. The guy's a softie alright, but he's also a Fed. He's not going to help us kill someone."

"So what do we do?"

"Just put the damn guy out of his misery. We'll find some other computer geek to do the dirty work. Maybe one whose job doesn't require him to protect people."

"I still say we should hold out. The guy is ready to crack, I can feel it."

A sigh. "Fine. We give him one more hour to cooperate. After that we can't afford to stick around. His team isn't stupid. I think you're under-estimating their abilities."

"You said you sent them on a wild goose chase for terrorists."

"I did, but they're bound to wise up sooner or later."

"Go check on him. Maybe he's ready."

Footsteps. They were getting closer to him. He kept his eyes closed.

"So, Timmy, how are you feeling?" Kimberly asked.

"Numb."

"Mm, I suppose that's a good thing for you. Maybe we should put a bullet in your other knee cap…or maybe your head?"

Tim shrugged, trying to be nonchalant about the threat. "It's inevitable at this point."

"Not if you give us what we want."

"I'm not stupid. I'm as good as dead no matter what I do."

There was a pause. Then Tim felt a jolt of pain as her stiletto stabbed into his groin. "I hope you're in pain. I hope you suffer." Tim opened his eyes and saw that the woman was looking at him with a venomous glare. "You put him behind bars, you bastard!"

"He put himself there," Tim slurred. His mind was clouding over again.

Kimberly gave him another kick. "_You_ put him there!" She backed away, arms crossed. "I can't wait to see you get your head blown off. I think it will be the sweetest sight I've ever witnessed."

Tim gulped down the saliva that had begun to form in his mouth. He was barely conscious, but he couldn't resist a small smile. "I can say the same thing to you."

* * *

For once Tony was in no mood to comment on Gibbs' erratic driving. His stomach rumbled and he was sure he was about to regurgitate his chili cheese dog, but he wasn't about to ask Gibbs to slow down. Not right now.

"Abbs, where do I go?"

"Turn left up here, Gibbs. You're going to be driving a few blocks before pulling into a large lot."

"Any idea which warehouse the call came from?"

"Sorry, Gibbs. She hasn't made another call."

The warehouses loomed in the distance. Ziva felt her blood run cold. In one of those buildings, Tim was being tortured…if he wasn't already dead. "We should pull off here to avoid being heard," she suggested. Gibbs complied and the trio piled out of the car.

"We split up, each checking one warehouse. If you suspect Tim is in one of them, do not, I repeat _do not_, go in alone," Gibbs ordered. "We don't know how many we're dealing with."

"Yes, boss," Ziva and Tony chorused.

The three took a brief moment to look at each other. The silence spoke words. They knew that Tim, if found, could be in any number of states, none of which would be pretty sights.

"Go!" Gibbs hissed.

* * *

Tim looked at the man who paced back and forth before him. "I've tried to be patient, Agent McGee. I've tried to be reasonable."

Tim snorted. "If this is your idea of being reasonable, I'd hate to see you when you're angry."

John Scaletti raised the gun and aimed it at Tim's head. "Oh, you're about to," John assured him. "I'm giving you one more chance to be reasonable. You'd be a fool not to take it."

"If I don't you'll kill me; if I do you'll kill me, just later. Dead if I do, dead if I don't."

"Do you enjoy being such a smartass?"

"Kind of." Inside Tim couldn't figure out where this was all coming from. He'd always assumed that if he were put in this kind of situation he'd crack under the pressure of it all and simply cower at the sight of his captors. It was different, though, when you realized how little hope you actually had. He was already in pain and, as he had already theorized, he was going to die here one way or another. What could a few sarcastic comments hurt? He wouldn't let them think – _know_ – that they had broken him on the inside. He'd be the annoying wise-ass that never let them get to him.

"Just kill him already!" Kimberly shouted. The woman had taken a front seat spot for all of this and was obviously enjoying it. "But not in the head. I want to see him bleed to death."

John looked to the woman and then back to Tim. With a shrug he said, "I can't really disappoint the lady, Agent McGee. My brother wouldn't like for me not to oblige his girlfriend."

"So then don't," Tim whispered.

* * *

Ziva crept toward the next warehouse. The first two had been empty and Tony and Gibbs had reported the same thing about the ones they had checked so far.

"Just kill him already!"

Ziva flattened herself against the side when she heard the voice. She was almost positive it was Holly's. A quick glance into one of the soiled windows confirmed this. "Gibbs, Tony. Tim is in warehouse six. He is bound and I count at least three others with him, Holly included."

"We'll be there Ziva," was Gibbs' static reply.

Ziva impatiently looked back into the warehouse. The man who stood before Tim had a gun and it was aimed at the young agent. She heard Tim whisper something, but she couldn't quite make it out.

"Would you prefer a stomach shot or something more in the crotch area?" Ziva heard _that_ loud and clear.

"Hurry!" she hissed to both Gibbs and Tony.

"Just shoot him!" Holly once again screeched.

Ziva hoped Gibbs' would forgive her for disobeying an order.

* * *

"Bye-bye, Agent McGee."

Tim scrunched his eyes closed. He didn't want the last thing he ever saw to be any of these people, nor did he want it to be a sad and dreary warehouse. He tried to imagine the good things in life: his family, his friends…

"Federal agents! Freeze!"

Tim's eyes snapped open and there was Ziva, standing in the open door. The light shone from behind her giving her an almost angelic look. In that moment, Tim didn't doubt that she _was_ a guardian angel of some sort.

"Drop your weapon!"

John smirked. "I can shoot him before you can shoot me."

"That is very doubtful."

"Do you want to really want to risk it?"

"Do _you_?" Ziva retorted. "Your gun is aimed at his abdomen whereas mine is aimed at your head."

John considered this. Tim sat holding his breath. It was only when John dropped the gun to the ground that Tim exhaled. "You win," John hissed.

"Get over there," Ziva ordered all of them, gesturing with her gun to the far right of the building.

Holly walked slowly with the others, though she lagged behind as the two men made their way to the wall. Her eyes were ice cold and they were set on Ziva.

"Ziva! What are you doing!" Gibbs and Tony were running toward her.

"I am making sure Tim does not see the inside of a body bag today."

The next moments went by in a flash. Holly, assuming that the sudden appearance of the other two agents held Ziva's attention, dove for the gun that had been dropped by John. She scooped it up and shot toward the Mossad officer…and missed by quite a distance. Ziva's shot, however, did not miss. Holly's body slammed into the floor, blood seeping out of the bullet hole in her forehead.

"Do not even think of trying anything," Ziva said in a cautious tone to both John and Morris, as though Holly's body were not enough of a warning to either of them.

Tony ran to Tim. "You okay, Probie?" he asked as he began to untie the binds.

Tim didn't look at Tony. Instead, he stared at the lifeless body that lay before him. "See," he said to the freshly deceased Holly, "I told you that you never know when an ability to shoot a gun may come in handy."

* * *

Tim had passed out almost as soon as Tony had untied him. The ambulance was on its way and it was decided that Gibbs and Tony would escort Morris and John to headquarters while Ziva would ride with Tim to the hospital.

"Afraid we'll hurt you, little girl?" John had sneered at Ziva as he and Morris were dragged out in handcuffs.

"It's more the other way around, buddy," Tony had retorted as he yanked John to the door.

Now Ziva sat there in the back of the ambulance looking at Tim has he lay unconscious on the gurney. His face was swollen and bruised, a testament to how hard he had been beaten during his time spent with the malicious trio. She hadn't seen the rest of his body, but she didn't imagine that it would look any prettier. Still, as he lay there, one couldn't help but recognize how angelic and peaceful he looked, especially considering what he had gone through.

Behind the ambulance was Ducky's van carrying the body of Kimberly Newman/Holly Sommers. Ziva grimaced as she thought about the woman who had bewitched Tim only to help put him through torture. Part of her congratulated herself on recognizing that the woman was up to no good, almost the point where she wanted to gloat to everyone who had doubted her; another part of her pitied Tim. Not only had he been worked over because of Holly, but she had played him for a fool, making him think she was head-over-heels for him. Ziva had no doubt that Tim's ego would end up being almost as sore as his body.

He stirred form his place and Ziva instinctively placed her hand atop his. He didn't return the touch, but he seemed placated by it. Ziva couldn't help but smile.


	11. Chapter 10

"Abby, I don't think he can breathe," Ziva said with a small smile as she watched the forensic scientist squeeze Tim in an embrace.

"Sorry," Abby said. Her eyes were brimming with tears as she looked down at the agent who lay in the hospital bed. "I'm just so happy you're okay!" She leaned down for another hug.

"It's okay, Abby," Tim promised, feebly returning the embrace. "I'll always be happy to get a hug from you." He had enough pain killers in him that Abby could likely crush him and he'd never feel a thing. "If anything, I owe you an apology. You too, Ziva," he added, catching the eye of the young woman. "You both tried to warn me and I just blew you off. For that I am sorry."

"Oh, Tim!" Abby crooned as she pulled him into yet another hug. "You had no way of knowing. Even I didn't think she was capable of this! At worst I thought she was a gold digger. I don't blame you for thinking it was jealousy."

"It is okay, McGee," Ziva agreed. "You had no reason to think Holly was behind something so malicious."

Tim still couldn't bring himself to think of the young woman he'd wooed as "Holly Sommers." He shrugged. "I still should have listened to what you had to say before completely writing you off as being jealous." He blushed slightly. "Like either of you would have been jealous of her anyway."

"Timmy! Don't sell yourself so short!" Abby scolded. "Any girl would be lucky to have you as a boyfriend. I mean that!" she insisted as she gently squeezed his hand. "It makes me sick that some woman played with your heart like that. I'm sorry that I couldn't be there when Ziva's bullet hit her…"

"Abby! You don't mean that." Tim didn't deny how relieved he was that Holly-Kimberly was dead, but he hated seeing Abby so spiteful. It wasn't the Abby he knew and loved.

"I hate her, Tim. I really do."

"I know, but you can't let that hatred consume you."

"I would be lying if I said shooting her didn't give me a certain sense of satisfaction," Ziva admitted. "Though I'd much prefer to have seen her in jail, wasting away the years."

"I still don't understand why they came after _me_," Tim commented, desperate to change the subject. "I had almost nothing to do with the case."

"They needed a hacker and you're the best," Abby told him.

He shrugged. "I guess in its own twisted way it's a compliment to me."

Abby took a place to his right, holding his hand, while Ziva sat to his left, her hand resting on his arm. "Will you be alright, McGee?" Ziva asked. She had seen the effects kidnapping and torture could have on people. She knew Tim would be able to work through it, but she also knew it wouldn't be easy. "Because you have very many people you can talk to and ask for support."

"I know, but I hate having crutches," he groaned, to which Ziva furrowed her brow.

"Crutches? But that will only be until your knee heels. I am speaking about your mental state, McGee."

Tim had to laugh. Even though he was lying in a hospital bed, jacked up on drugs, things seemed to slowly be returning to normal. Abby was still her energetic, boa constrictor hugging, self. Ziva was still the stoic, yet open, woman who couldn't quite grasp the entire English language. Even Tony, who had left only an hour before, had spent his entire visit quoting movies and taking on the annoying older brother role feverously. It was almost as though nothing had ever happened. "I think I will be okay, Ziva." And he meant it. While he didn't doubt that the events of the past day would make him more suspicious of new people, nor did he doubt that he would be on edge for the upcoming months, wondering if someone was waiting just around the corner. But Tim could see what he had right there in front of him: a family. He had people who were willing to help him through whatever was to come and that, he knew, would be most helpful to him. The copious amounts of flowers and cards that had accumulated in the few hours since he'd been admitted into the hospital were proof of that.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything, Agent McGee." His doctor, a young woman by the name of Dr. Furster, stood in the doorway, assessing the scene – a young, wounded agent, flanked by a woman on either side – with a smirk.

"Of course not, doctor," he assured her.

"I'm going to be giving you something to help you sleep." She looked pointedly at the two women. "I'm sorry, but I'll have to ask you two to leave."

"Already?" Abby pouted, not wanting to let Tim out of her sight.

"Yes, Agent McGee needs to get some rest right now."

"Fine," Abby said reluctantly. "But I'm coming back tomorrow, Timmy!" She leaned in and gently kissed his cheek.

"Yes, McGee, do get some rest. I hope to see you looking well-rested tomorrow morning," Ziva told him. She too leaned in and kissed his other cheek. The result of the two kisses was a red-faced Tim.

"I didn't know you were such a ladies man, Agent McGee," Dr. Furster teased after the two women had left.

Tim smiled bashfully. "They're just friends."

Dr. Furster smiled skeptically, but she didn't push the issue. "How are you feeling?"

"Numb," he said, giving her the same answer he'd given Holly when she'd asked the same question. This, though, was a good numb, and not only because he knew how much pain he'd be in if the pain killers weren't flowing through his veins right now.

"I'm sure that's better than the alternative," she commented. He agreed with a feeble nod.

She opened the tubing of his IV and added a small amount of liquid. "This is going to make you sleepy. It should last you through the night. Tomorrow one of the nurses will be coming by to check on you," she explained to him. "If you do wake up, just hit this button and someone will come by as soon as they can."

Tim could feel his mind clouding over, a somewhat disconcerting feeling considering what happened last time he'd felt this way. He thought Dr. Furster was going to leave and let him drift off into a drug-induced sleep, but he noticed her standing in the door way, looking at him seriously. "I'm sure you know that your recovery is going to be painful." He nodded drowsily. "We'll be working through it with you every step of the way," Furster assured him. "And, judging by your friends, you'll have a lot of support."

Thoughts of his friends came to mind and Tim found himself smiling what he was sure was a dopey smile before drifting off into the first peaceful rest he'd had in over a day.

* * *

**AN:** Just one more chapter to sort of tie everything up!


	12. Epilogue

Tim leaned back against the stiff hospital bed and sighed. He was beginning to get restless with just lying around. On the table beside him was a stack of books that had been left for him by friends and family. He'd spent so much time pouring through them to escape the boredom of his hospital stay, that the words had stopped actually having meaning and had simply become random letters strung together. He didn't think he could ever get tired from reading, but at this point the thought of cracking open another book gave him a headache.

His parents had flown in as soon as they'd been contacted and, despite his protests, they had insisted on staying through Christmas. Though he'd never admit it, Tim had been glad to have the company. Two days after Christmas, though, Tim had insisted they go back home, assuring them that he was in good hands and would be fine. With his parents back home – Sarah with them – and his friends and co-workers out living their lives, Tim was slowly going crazy just lying in bed, day in and day out. Especially tonight.

"We're here in Times Square ready to ring in the new year!" the hip, young VJ shouted on MTV as she was flanked by teens and young adults, all pushing to be seen and get their fifteen seconds of fame.

"Woo," Tim muttered dryly under his breath as he changed the channel. He'd already gone through the twenty channels available to him twice, and, so far, it looked like his best options were the _Beverly Hillbillies_ marathon on TV Land or the soap opera on the Spanish channel. One thing was sure: He wasn't going to be watching any televised New Years parties. He didn't need to be reminded of how much fun everyone else was having.

A horn bleat from the doorway pulled him from his pity party. "Aw, Timmy! Don't look so glum!" Abby said as she entered the room. Her arms were filled with noise makers, toy horns, confetti, and other odds and ends. "It's New Year's Eve!"

"We're here to rescue you, Probie," Tony told him as he followed in behind Abby. He was carrying bottles of soda and donned a ridiculous party hat.

Ziva came in behind, her arms filled with bags of snacks. "I hope you did not already have plans, McGee."

"He's in a hospital, Ziva. He really doesn't have much to do except watch the ball drop in Times Square."

"What are you guys doing here?" Tim asked as they all began placing their items down. Abby placed a noise maker in his lap and strapped a party hat atop his head. Tony opened one of the bottles of soda and began pouring out the drinks. "You guys don't have to be here."

"We know, McGee," Tony said earnestly as he offered Tim a cup. "And just so you know, I gave up a date with a Swedish model to be here tonight."

"Your sacrifice is noted, Tony," Ziva said, shoving a bag of Doritos toward the senior field agent.

"Happy New Year, Tim!" Abby squealed as she pulled him into a gentle hug. "I wanted to bring fireworks, because it's just not New Years if you don't have fireworks, but I didn't think the hospital would allow it. Sorry."

"It's okay, Abbs, I think I'll get by without them." Tim removed the hat that Abby had put on him and placed it atop the stack of books. "Guys, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but you really don't have to give up your plans for me."

"McGee!" Abby admonished. "We are not going to just let you sit here alone on New Years Eve! I can go to a cemetery party anytime, Tony can pick-up another Swedish model tomorrow, and Ziva…well…"

"I didn't have any plans, McGee," Ziva cut in. "Nor do I think Gibbs and Ducky did."

"Gibbs and Ducky?"

"Yes, Timothy?" Ducky said as he entered with Gibbs in tow. "I see the party has already begun."

"I was just letting everyone know that you guys didn't need to come see me tonight."

"Don't be ridiculous," Ducky told him. "I was happy to have an excuse to leave the house. I do love my mother, but she can often times overdo the New Years festivities. The dogs hate fireworks and they will not quit their yapping for hours," he confided to Tim.

"See, McGee? We're all fine. Ducky is glad to get out of the house and you're not keeping Gibbs from anything except building a boat that he'll never get out of the basement."

"Shut it, DiNozzo," Gibbs told him with a good natured grin. He even forwent the usual head slap that such a comment would normally warrant. "McGee, I thought you'd like to know that the trials for John Scaletti and Morris Pelino have been set. Your testimony could help with putting them away for a long time."

Tim nodded. "I can't deny that I'm looking forward to it."

"The jury is still out on the elder Scaletti, but I have a feeling his attorney is going to be trying to get a plea bargain," Tony said. "He wasn't too happy to hear that Ziva had put a bullet in his girlfriend's head."

"Yeah, well you can tell him I wasn't too happy when his brother put a bullet in my knee," Tim replied bitterly, looking at the wound. As Dr. Furster had warned, the recovery process was proving to be painful. Still, for every flash of pain he felt, Tim couldn't help but think of how much worse things could have turned out. _He_ could have been the one lying on that floor instead of Holly. For everything he'd gone through, Tim knew when to count his blessings. At that moment, he had five of them surrounding his hospital bed.

"So Tim," Abby said as she perched herself on the edge of his bed, "I've met this girl at my church who you would _love_. She even has Ziva's seal of approval, so you're all set."

Tim smiled wanly, happy to see that things were finally returning to normal. "That would be great, Abby. Just as long as she's not a kindergarten teacher."

* * *

**AN:** And thus it comes to an end! Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed (and to those of you who just read). I hope it was enjoyable!


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